Letters you might never be able to answer
by lux ex tenebris
Summary: Sometimes not dying is a fate worse than death itself. Slightly A/U. Spencer writes letters to Clay.
1. August 03 2015

August 03 2015

Hey big bro.

How are you doing? I hope you're doing well. I pray you're doing well but there's no way I can tell. No way any of us can tell.

Where are you? And what's with those weird farewell messages you've sent to your closest friends? I beg of you, don't do anything stupid, whatever is wrong, it's not worth it.

 _She_ isn't worth it.

I know you see it differently. I know she is your world. And I don't even know what she did to hurt you this time, but please believe me when I tell you it's not worth it.

It's been almost three hours now and we still have no idea where you are. I have contacted the police even though mom said she doesn't believe they will go looking for you since you haven't even been missing for a day yet.

But you see, you are a special case when it comes to the police. You need to take meds. And without those meds your life is in danger. So they will go looking for you, I know they will. They have to.

 _Just where the hell are you?_

Everyone is looking for you to be perfectly honest. They're looking everywhere and nowhere at all. The police, dad, your friends. Meanwhile I have to stay home with mom just in case you do show up here. So someone is here. So someone can tell you you're welcome to come in. So someone can just be _there_ for you.

But you aren't going to be coming home, are you?

God, I hope they will find you.

It's nine pm right now. Your friend called us about two-and-a-half hours ago. A little more. Closer to three hours at this point. Not like it matters since minutes feel like days right now.

The police asked me where you might be. I didn't know. I was at a complete loss. I have no idea where the hell you might be. We checked your new apartment. You know, the one you were supposed to move into next Monday? That one. But you weren't there. Of course you weren't, you don't even have the keys for it yet.

The police also checked your old apartment. Figured it wasn't a good idea we went to go interrogate your soon-to-be ex-wife by ourselves. Not like she would have opened the door for us anyways from what it seems like.

They said she wasn't being very cooperative. They were back at our place about twenty minutes after leaving to talk to her.

Doesn't she know or doesn't she want to tell? It's driving me insane.

Mom and I have been trying to call you nonstop. It keeps going straight to voice mail. Whenever we do get it to ring (I still haven't figured out why it sometimes rings and then goes straight to voicemail. Does that mean you're actually declining the calls? But you must be getting so many, considering your friends and everyone else keeps trying to reach you as well) you do not pick up.

 _Please, please just pick up your goddamn phone so we know that you're alright._

I've been talking to one of your friends on facebook. The one who used to go to school with me. He's with dad and some other guys right now. They're searching a forest. I think they called it the Cannon. I have no fucking clue where that is.

 _Why is it that after knowing you for 25 years I have no idea where the hell you might be?_

I told the police about that fishing pond you sometimes used to go to. I know it exists. At the same time I have no idea where exactly it is. You used to love going there so much, you kept talking about it. So why the hell do I not know where it is?

I know you liked going to the sea. I told them that. If you went up to the sea you're really far away, though. They said they'll be searching the close proximity first and then see where it leads from there.

Why can't it be like in the movies? They can just track your phone and be over with it right? Or track your car somehow? I gave them both your number and your license plate. I at least knew that much.

We haven't heard any news from anyone in a long time and I really am not liking this.

Please just pick up your phone and tell us where you are, okay?

You can be mad at me for calling the cops, I really don't care. I know you're not too big a fan of them. I know you'll be angry once they find you, _if they find you._

Be angry at me all you want, just _please be alright._


	2. August 04 2015

August 04 2015

You're an asshole, an idiot and an utter retard, you know? Just how fucking stupid and selfish can you be? Just why?

They found you. They found you and everything is a mess and I don't know what's happening.

Dad came home at around eleven pm last night. In one of your messages to one of your friends you mentioned that stupid-ass fucking one hundred hectare-big forest. That's why they had been searching it like madmen.

But it was getting too dark and the stupid forest is too big and they found not a single trace that might lead them to you. So they had to call it a night and went again this morning.

This fucking morning. Dad must have left at around five or six. As soon as the sun was up, he was gone. _Looking for you. Always looking for you._

Mom and I have been awake all night. She was crying, a lot. So was I.

Dad called us a little after eight. They found you. In the fucking forest. In your fucking car. Unconscious. Half-dead. They weren't even sure if you were alive at all when they found you.

A police car was driving through the forest when they found your car. Dad was nearby. He was with them within seconds. They had closed off the road and they just knew, dad just _knew_ you were there.

He hasn't mentioned any details but he said it was bad. He said they're not sure if you will make it. They're not sure if _you will live or not._

Mom went to the hospital first. She's keeping me updated via her phone. I went to her work in the meantime to tell them she'd not be coming. _Who knows for how long._

They said it was okay, I didn't give them many details but I made it very clear that it was an emergency and that she wouldn't be there. They were understanding. I'm sure it'll be alright.

 _I'm sure everything will be just fine. Just fine._

After a while mom had to turn off her phone. While I was sitting in the bus to the hospital. Apparently wherever you're at, phones are not allowed.

When I got to the hospital I asked around for intensive care since that's where she told me you'd be. I kept asking for you. Kept asking where the hell my big brother was. Nurse after nurse. They wouldn't tell me. Said they didn't know. How fucking incompetent can you be? They have files, they have lists, they have God-knows-what but they can't tell me where you are?

So I was waiting. I was waiting for an hour. And nothing happened. I asked the next nurse. She said she'd find out for me and told me to wait for her.

So I kept waiting for another hour. She wasn't coming back. I kept asking nurse after fucking nurse and nobody would tell me where you were. I kept trying to call mom and dad. No reply on either phone. And nobody would tell me where the hell you were.

I wasn't even sure if I was asking around on the right ward. After four hours I gave up. Decided to wait at home for anyone to get a hold of me.

A little while later mom and dad did come home. Asked me where I'd been. Told them the short version of my fucking hospital fuck-up.

Mom was packing her things. Dad gave me a quick summary of how you were.

 _When we found him. Kid, it was bad I'm not gonna lie to you. When we found him, he was already in a coma. They said his brain must've been without oxygen for at least ten hours. They don't think he is ever going to wake up. But he's alive. He's alive._

Mom had demanded to be able to stay in the hospital with you. Must've put up quite the fight since she had, indeed, been allowed to stay in your room for the time being. Just to stay at your side.

Dad came back home after he had taken mom back to the hospital. We spent the night drinking alcohol and crying.


	3. August 06 2015

August 06 2015

I went to visit you today. I'm not sure if it was a good idea. I'm not sure if I can come to visit you again. I know it sounds selfish. I know it is stupid. But just _seeing_ you lying there. With all those _machines_. I'm not sure if I can stand it. I'm so scared, big bro.

Dad took me to the hospital with him today. I'll admit I didn't really want to go. At the same time it might be the last time I see you, so it was obvious I had to go.

Don't get me wrong, it's not that I didn't want to see you. I just didn't know what to expect. How you'd look like. _I just didn't know._

When we arrived at the hospital, dad led me through a lot of very long and very confusing hallways. One looping into the next up to the point it felt like he was just leading me around in circles.

But he wasn't.

Not before long we arrived at a door that could not be opened from the outside – at least not without punching in some kind of code neither of us knew.

There was a telephone next to the door. Dad hit the call button and introduced himself after being greeted by a mechanic voice that most likely belonged to a nurse sitting somewhere behind those heavy, heavy doors.

She told us to wait a bit and that she'd let us in.

We were greeted by my mother opening the door. She ushered us inside and the door fell shut behind us. We were in a small room separated by two sets of doors. The big ones behind us and another sealed glass door in front of us.

There was disinfectant at the wall. Mom told me to use it on my hands. I obliged.

Mom said only one person at a time was allowed to see you. I panicked. I was scared of seeing you, let alone by myself.

Mom realized I wasn't too comfortable with the idea and told dad to go get us some drinks while we go to visit you.

She led me down another corridor after we passed the glass door and then stopped in front of a room. She pushed open the door – it wasn't even a normal door you pull open, you know? You had to push the door to the side in order to be able to enter the room.

As soon as she opened the door, though, I saw you. And everything hit me all over.

Your bed is in the middle of the room. You were on your back. Your nose looked bloody. You had tubes and wires everywhere. Fucking everywhere.

 _How did it even come this far?_

It honestly seemed like a bad soap opera. There were _machines everywhere._ A machine that helped you breathe since apparently you can't do that by yourself anymore. Like a big pump just going up and down. And making so much noise. So much noise in this way too silent room. A machine to measure your heartbeat. A constant beep accompanying the steady rhythm set by the breathing pump. A machine to measure your blood sugar. At least that one was silent.

Monitors. So many monitors. I recognized the heartbeat one. At least that looked normal. From what I remembered at least. It took me a while to be able to properly look at you.

You looked… Mostly peaceful, actually. If it hadn't been for the blood around your nose (mom told me there was some kind of swelling and they had trouble getting the tubes through and that apparently even if they dried the blood it just wouldn't stop) you would've looked as if you were sleeping.

Well… Your breathing looked anything but normal. Very mechanic, way too erratic. I can't even put it into words, I just really can't. I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Had we searched that stupid forest more thoroughly, maybe we would have been able to find you. I should have gone with them. I should have known you wouldn't be coming home and that sitting there was pointless. We could have searched a bigger area, could have split into even smaller groups to look for you. _I'm sorry._

I held your hand. It was warm. For some reason that gave me some odd kind of relief. I know it probably doesn't mean anything. But at least your hands were warm. You always used to have cold hands when you were cold so that must mean that at least you're not freezing.

Which is a stupid thought in itself with almost forty degrees Celsius outside. Your room has an A/C. It feels very nice in there actually.

If you ignore the chemical smell and those goddamn noises those goddamn machines are making. I know you need them. They unsettle me. _You shouldn't have to need them._

Mom tells me that the doctors did a lot of tests with you. A lot of CT-Scans and other scans to see your brain activity. I didn't remember all of their names, sorry.

 _I'm so sorry._

She tells me that so far the results look really bad. The doctors don't think that you will ever wake up again. Or make any progress in any way.

Hearing that hurts. Seeing you like that scares me. It just scares me so much.

I'm only allowed to stay for fifteen minutes. You're about to get more tests and scans and whatnot.

I kissed your forehead. I know you were never one for big displays of affection but fuck that. You wiggled your toes when I did it.

I asked mom if you'd done that before, she said no. She hadn't noticed.

 _Did it mean anything?_


End file.
